At 11 years old, Zhang Zhuoyi looked on course to take Chinese soccer by storm — a rising star at the high-profile Haiqiu Football Academy, coaches described him as a talent of “limitless potential” who was “born to play.”

Yet, within months things had fallen apart, with a dispute over training conditions threatening to derail his professional career before it even started.

This year, Zhang’s parents became embroiled in a war of words with the academy after attempting to terminate their son’s contract, which runs until he turns 18. A resulting lawsuit could now see his family on the hook for 2.66 million yuan ($373,543) in damages.

Facing the fallout, will Zhang still get the chance to become China’s answer to Lionel Messi — or will he be forced to sit on the sidelines for good?

Pass master

Zhang’s talent was first spotted at age 6 while playing in his native Xi’an, capital of the northwestern Shaanxi province. He advanced quickly over the years, moving up from school teams to eventually joining the local Longqi Football Academy. Mao Jiaxi, one of his coaches there, says, “The kid was born to play soccer. He was the most promising player I’d seen in his position in my 12 years of coaching.”

In 2024, Zhang was invited for tryouts at both a top-tier Chinese Super League (CSL) club and the Haiqiu Football Academy, part of HQ Sports, a sports technology, media, and “datatainment” company established by retired China international Sun Jihai.

After meeting with both organizations, Zhang’s parents felt that Haiqiu was the best option for their son, and the following April they agreed on a training contract with the academy running to 2031. The player’s father, Zhang Jing, explains that a major factor in the decision was Sun’s reputation.

Sun is one of the most successful soccer players China has ever produced. A right-sided defender, he appeared in the English Premier League for Manchester City and was part of the China squad for the 2002 FIFA World Cup in Japan and South Korea. His academy’s motto is “To cultivate the next Sun Jihai,” and the selection process is highly competitive, with an acceptance rate of less than 1%.

After being selected, Zhang Zhouyi relocated with his family to Dalian, in the northeastern Liaoning province, where the academy is based. There, coaches began providing him with free, intensive training to improve his fitness, skills, and tactical awareness.

He quickly established himself as a key player in his age group. The academy’s channel on Douyin, the Chinese version of TikTok, features several promotional images and interviews with him, including one in which he confidently states, “I want to prove myself to my coach.”

At the end of last year, the youngster even got to meet David Beckham when the global soccer star visited his Dalian training base. A video clip captures Sun praising Zhang’s ability, before the player introduces himself to the former Manchester United and Real Madrid legend, saying in English: “My name is Zhang Zhouyi. I’m 11 years old. I like playing football. I play winger.”

However, behind the scenes, things weren’t so rosy.

Zhang’s parents say their son struggled to adapt to his coach’s “harsh, critical style,” and by Chinese New Year 2025 he had reached breaking point. He told them that after making a mistake in one practice session, his coach had said, “If it wasn’t for your teammate’s injury, you wouldn’t get one minute of playing time.” It was around then, they say, that Zhang felt he no longer wanted to stick with Haiqiu.

In addition to criticism during training — which his father says was constant, excessive, and often abusive — Zhang’s mother, Zhou Yanan, says her son was also dealing with a kneecap fracture as well as Osgood-Schlatter disease, a common cause of knee pain in growing adolescents. The academy’s intensive training lasted four hours every day, “and we were afraid that if he continued like this, he’d end up ruining his body,” Zhou says.

After growing concerned, the couple told the club of their decision to terminate their contract and request a waiver, making their son a free agent. They didn’t expect the academy to demand 180,000 yuan to release him — and then sue them for millions.

Penalty decision

Industry insiders say long contracts for budding soccer players are common in China’s youth development system. Running a private academy is expensive, with costs including training equipment, accommodation, meals, coaches’ salaries, and travel to matches. To balance the books, these businesses generate income by “feeding” players to CSL clubs when they reach maturity, usually at 18.

Regulations from the world governing body FIFA state that when registering a player for the first time, professional clubs must pay compensation to every team that contributed to that player’s training between the ages of 12 and 21.

According to data shared by Sun in separate media interviews, Haiqiu spends about 200,000 yuan a year on each student, and in the summer it had 84 players on its books, suggesting total annual expenses of nearly 17 million yuan. A crowdfunding campaign to cover the academy’s costs between June 2024 and May 2025 has so far raised nearly 10 million yuan, just short of its 11-million-yuan target.

Zhang Jing believes the academy had been hoping for a major payday when his son finally turned pro, “which might be the fundamental reason why they initially insisted on us fulfilling the contract.”

After speaking with the families of two other Haiqiu dropouts, he and his wife had expected the academy to ask for a termination fee of about 50,000 yuan. “Our child was a key player, so I’d understand a slightly higher fee, but 180,000 yuan was simply too much,” Zhang Jing says, adding that Haiqiu had claimed the figure was based on an estimated daily training cost of 500 yuan.

During one round of negotiations, which Zhou recorded, a Haiqiu executive told the family that the figure proposed was “already the minimum,” explaining that the academy was facing “incalculable losses,” as it had outlaid tens of thousands of yuan on domestic and international travel and accommodation as part of Zhang Zhouyi’s training.

Zhou also argued that her son’s physical condition was severe enough to rule out a professional career, but this led the executive to question why, in that case, they wanted him released as a free agent. The executive suggested that if their son officially retired due to injury, Haiqiu would drop the termination fee entirely, but a waiver would cost them 180,000 yuan.

Haiqiu Football Academy declined to comment on the negotiations when contacted by the reporter.

After talks broke down in May, Zhou went public, posting a video on Douyin in which she explained her side of the conflict and accused Haiqiu of “exorbitant, unreasonable, and illegal” behavior. “He’s our child — we have the right to choose to enroll him in another club or return him to a school league,” she said.

The move led to a social media backlash that forced Zhang Zhouyi to temporarily stop training altogether.

To expedite their son’s release, Zhang Jing and Zhou filed an arbitration case with the Chinese Football Association (CFA), the sport’s national governing body. Shortly after, Haiqiu filed a lawsuit at Dalian’s Jinzhou District People’s Court to demand that the family honor its contract or pay 2.66 million yuan in damages.

Picking sides

The case has not only divided public opinion but also has wide-reaching implications for Chinese soccer’s youth development system.

Regarding Zhang Zhouyi’s initial complaints about his treatment on the training ground, insiders say player-coach disputes, verbal abuse, and intense regimens are common at every level of the game, especially at academies that hold to rigorous standards.

However, the family has been roundly attacked on social media for “lacking respect, disregarding their contractual obligations, and damaging the interests of Chinese soccer.” Xu Liang, a former midfielder for the China men’s national team, posted: “Haiqiu has provided Zhang Zhouyi with free training for a long time. How can it defend itself if the player is released and immediately joins another team?”

On Oct. 23, Sun told Tencent News that he believes a third party had convinced Zhang’s parents to terminate their contract, and that he would leave the matter to the courts to decide.

However, Zhang Jing has argued online that no other academy or professional club has come forward to recruit his son, and that paying a contract termination fee should automatically entitle any player to a waiver.

From the perspective of China’s academies, the case could set a dangerous precedent: if parents and youth players think they can walk away from contracts for a nominal fee, businesses will feel less secure about investing in training, which would undermine the entire system.

Yet, Cheng Tao, an attorney in the eastern Shandong province familiar with China’s sports law, argues that academies are already too powerful. He says the current lengthy contracts “place a stranglehold on every young player’s career,” and warns that if Haiqiu wins its lawsuit, the hefty fees players will face for breaking a contract will mean they are effectively “signing their life away.”

Whatever the outcome, industry insiders say that the dispute highlights the need for reforms in the country’s youth soccer system, including its revenue model. Many point out that despite the FIFA regulations on compensating academies for training, this money often fails to materialize in China due to the generally poor financial situation of most CSL teams.

“We need to see not only the CFA establish rules on academy contracts but also the CSL strictly implement the rules on professional clubs paying that compensation when registering players,” says Shi Xueqing, former general manager of Dalian Pro Football Club, which was dissolved in 2024 due to heavy historical debts. He adds that more public funding and resources are also required to support youth sports nationwide.

Time to reboot

In August, Zhang Zhouyi, now 12, returned with his family to Xi’an to resume his training at the Longqi Football Academy and to enroll in middle school.

According to the player and his coaches, his intensity and quality in practice sessions have significantly declined. He is also blocked from participating in elite leagues organized by the CFA until his contract dispute is settled.

Longqi coach Mao says he fears that the case might have irreparably damaged Zhang’s reputation. “With the intensifying public debate, it’s highly likely that clubs will now avoid recruiting him,” he says. “His professional career is probably over.”

Asked whether he still enjoys playing soccer, Zhang says, “It’s OK,” adding after a brief pause, “but not as much as before.”

Reported by Sui Kun.

A version of this article originally appeared in The Beijing News. It has been translated and edited for brevity and clarity, and is republished here with permission.

Translator: Chen Yue; editors: Wang Juyi and Hao Qibao.

(Header image: ImageBROKER/Manuela Hartmann/Getty Creative/VCG)